


How the Stark Women Keep Warm During Winter

by auburn_autumn



Series: The Winter Peace [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Doggy Style, Doppelcest, Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Incest, Infidelity, Masturbation, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Secret Identity, Shapeshifting, Sibling Incest, Spanking, Threesome, Threesome - F/F/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-02
Updated: 2011-08-02
Packaged: 2017-10-23 13:24:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/250770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auburn_autumn/pseuds/auburn_autumn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the Robellion Kink Meme: "Sandor/Sansa/Arya: Arya needs a way to make Sandor sleep with her.<br/>Thank the seven she can change her face into Sansa."</p><p>Slightly AU postwar!future!fic where Sansa is reunited with Sandor, Arya, and Tyrion at Winterfell and Daenerys is Queen. Sansa's married to Tyrion but has been having an ongoing affair with Sandor.  When Arya becomes attracted to Sandor she discovers their secret.  What starts as a dubious scheme to get Sandor to sleep with her becomes a night none of them will forget.</p><p>You can view the original post here: http://robellion.livejournal.com/2809.html?thread=446201#t446201</p><p>Lot's of kink (see tag list), dub con because Sansa doesn't know Arya is Arya.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How the Stark Women Keep Warm During Winter

ARYA

At first Arya was angry that Sansa insisted on keeping the Hound as a guard. Her lady sister never listened to her, even though she's killed with both whispers and swords and could change her face at will. Of course Sansa didn't know that. With Sansa she was a different Arya who wasn't the wild but innocent girl she was before they got separated, but wasn't the assassin she was now. She tried to be the Arya she had wanted to grow up to be from the beginning, the fearless myrmidon who only killed to protect her family from their enemies.

The war was over, but it left the realm unprepared for the winter, which showed no sign of ending. In fact the days were still getting shorter. In the winter it was wiser for wolves and dogs to huddle for warmth instead of fighting, so Arya forgave the Hound, which led to thinking of him as an ally if not a friend, which somehow led to wanting to bed him.

At first she tried to ignore her desire for Clegane, but it was no use. Even without the burns the Hound probably wouldn't be good looking, but he was dangerously strong and rarely if ever said anything stupid, which made him a whole lot better than most of the men she's met and a couple of the ones she's bedded. Most of all, she couldn't sleep some nights for wanting him, and she knew not sleeping would first make her sluggish and then make her sick, which was the last thing she could afford to be in the middle of winter.

She first tried sultry looks, then 'accidentally' bumping into him in the hall, even knocking him down and straddling him when they were training. That last time Sandor nearly immediately lifted her off of him. With surprising quickness he was on his feet and helping her up. They picked up their weapons and resumed their practice as if it had not happened, except for the wetness between Arya's legs and the growing ache that came with it..

A few days later she resigned to come to his room at night to offer herself to him. She walked as silent as a cat to his room and tried the knob without knocking...to find it empty. _Where was he?_

She decided on a walk to calm herself before returning to her own room, figuring that the cool air might calm her. She soon was at the godswood, practicing walking silently through the snow. She began to wish she had dressed warmer when she heard a noise coming from the general area where she was heading. She slowed her pace and listened as she walked until she came upon the clearing in the center of the godswood, where the heart tree stood next to the hot spring, crouching as to not be seen, steam from the pool hanging in the still air.

To Arya's astonishment the Hound had her sister against the heart tree, her still-stockinged legs wrapped around his hips and her skirt bunched up at her waist. _So that's why the Hound's been so cool with me._ Arya thought. She could see Sansa's face in profile, her auburn waves and flushed skin damp with sweat. Sansa was moaning as the Hound thrusted against her, his trousers down to his ankles. Arya could only see the burned half of his face, which was twisted with pleasure in a way that was somehow more erotic to Arya than it was disturbing.

Sandor made a particularly deep thrust and then pulled himself completely out of her sister, giving Arya a decent view of the Hound's manhood. Arya had only a split-second to blink in amazement before he plunged his cock back into Sansa, causing the both girls to whimper uncontrollably. Fortunately for Arya the lovers did not hear, which made Arya feel bolder.

She untied the laces in her breeches and slipped her hand beneath the waistband of her smallclothes, even as she watched the couple. Immediately she began to tease her clit, first in soft circles. One of the hands that Sandor was using to support Sansa's hip was brought to one of her breasts, pinching her nipple through the bodice of her dress. Arya pinched her own clothed nipple and began thrusting her finger into her cunt, pressing down on her centre with each stroke. She could feel her release approaching as she bit her lip to keep from moaning as loud as her sister was.

Arya could not fully stifle the moan that she let out when Sansa grasped Sandor's hips and pulled him completely inside her, grinding and rolling her hips, almost mewling as she came. Arya felt her insides spasm as the waves of her own orgasm washed over her, almost simultaneous with Sandor's own groan and final frenzied thrusts of release.

No sooner did Arya catch her breath than she return to her room as quickly as she could without making a great deal of noise. The shame of what she had done caught up with her when she crawled into bed, her thighs still damp with her arousal. It was bad enough that she had enjoyed spying on the Hound while he fucked some other woman, but it was unthinkable that she watched him with Sansa. Worst yet was that it was not only watching Sandor fucking that had turned her on, it was watching him with her sister.

For a few days Arya felt like a mouse again, scurrying through Winterfell, not wanting to make eye contact with either the Hound or her sister. When Lord Tyrion returned from Casterly Rock ( _or was he merely visiting his wife_?) it was easier, at least, to avoid Sansa. Apparently the return of Sansa's husband to Winterfell meant a lot more free time for Sandor to practice in the yard. Arya had no choice but to join him out there, preferring the warmth brought on by training to staying inside day and night.

It wasn't long before sparring the Hound reawakened Arya's desire, which had been only temporarily sated the night in the godswood. She tried to relieve it every night with her hand, but the knowledge that her own slender fingers were so unlike the Hound's long, thick cock made her orgasms feel hallow and unfulfilling. Some nights she wept with frustration, sure that Sandor would not be with her because he only wanted her sister.

One morning she was on her way to break her fast when she passed one of Sansa's maids carrying one of her sister's dresses.

“You,” she called out the girl. She looked started as she curtsied. “Is that the mending my sister wanted done?”

“Yes, my Lady.”

“Show me.”

The maid showed Arya a seam on the armpit, which to her eyes looked perfect. “No, no, this won't do.”

“I'm sorry, milady,” the maid was terrified.

“I will see to this myself, since I obviously can't trust you to this,” Arya huffed, turning on her heel and walking away. She felt a little bit bad about scolding the girl for nothing, and a little bit worse for taking the dress, but a warmth between her legs accompanied her guilt, and the dress ended up in her own closet all of the same.

That night Sansa and the Imp were drinking wine and playing cards in the library and Sandor was drinking with the other men who didn't have duty that night. She decided that she might as well join the men, as cards were boring and what else did she have to do on a winter's night?

The men were unsurprised to see her join them, sitting next to Sandor in one of the spaces men always leave on either side of him.

The Hound poured her some wine. “Is your sister abed with her husband?” he asked her.

“It's not your night to shield her,” Arya couldn't help but tease, but then she added. “They've been playing cards and drinking the whole evening. They'll soon pass out either from the boredom or the drink. Lord Tyrion's an awful _little_ man.”

“Don't be fooled by his stature, she-wolf. The Little Lion can hold his drink better than many men, and has been with more whores than the lot of them. Your sister's evening is just beginning.”

The Hound must have been drinking quite a bit to talk this way in front of her and the men, but then again he had always had a man for brutal honesty. “And how are you, Hound?”

“I'm drunk enough to go to bed without caring that there's no one else to warm it,” Sandor slurred.

“The night's still young. A short ride to winter town and a couple silver coins can buy you a pretty good night,” Arya murmured suggestively. _A few coins for the room, Hound. I'll fuck you for free_ , she wanted to add.

“Perhaps that would be true in summer, but tonight my horse would freeze its fucking hooves off.” Sandor stood. “Good night shewolf.”

“Might I finish your flagon of wine?” Arya asked cheerfully.

“Get your own,” he rasped, snatching the vessel up.

Arya drank a few more glasses of wine and then went to her room, feeling delightfully tispy, but not so drunk that she couldn't walk in a straight line. She began to undress for bed when the green material of Sansa's dress caught her eye from its place in the closet.

She got it out and laid it on her bed before dressing in it, not bothering to put on smallclothes. It was slightly bigger all around but especially in the bust, and since she had no maid to dress her she had wear it backward, lace it up, and then turn it around.

 _I look ridiculous_ , she thought, glancing at her reflection in her mirror. _But Sansa won't._

She walked down the halls to Sandor's room, thankful that everyone was abed. She listened at his door before transforming her face into Sansa's and knocking on the door.

She was afraid that he had already passed out from the wine, but soon enough she heard footsteps approaching the door. Arya held her breath as the door opened. A rare smile developed on Sandor's face before he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her inside his room. He closed the door and pressed her against it, his lips immediately crashing into hers. Arya moaned into the kiss as she engaged her tongue in a swordfight with the Hound's. Finally he pulled back, and both of them were breathless.

“I thought you weren't coming tonight,” he rasped, his voice thick with desire.

She replied in her best Sansa impersonation, fearing that speaking would ruin the illusion, “I couldn't go another night without having a real man, ser.”

“Not a ser,” he growled, kissing her neck roughly, using both his teeth and his tongue to make her knees weak. Yet she must have answered correctly, for he then lifted her by her arse and carried her to the bed, depositing her there roughly. She watched hungrily as he removed his shirt, displaying muscles and scars alike.

“ _Remember where the heart is_?” she remembered him asking her once, except for it wasn't her. The Hound was never in the woods with Sansa.

Sandor climbed over her and kissed her again, one arm supporting his weight while the other roamed across the bodice of her dress. He pinched a nipple through the material and she bucked her hips involuntarily, recalling that night in the godswood.

He kissed from her swollen lips that place where he jaw met her neck. Arya cried out in pleasure from the amazing sensation, but the Hound continued down her neck to her collarbone, and then the valley of her breasts. At the same time the hand that was on her breast trailed down her ribs and stomach to one of her hip bones, caressing the jutting bone briefly before continuing down her thigh. He lifted his head so that he was kneeling upright between her legs (which she must have spread without even noticing) and pulled the loose bodice down with his now free hand, capturing her nipple with his mouth, nipping it sweetly and the laving his tongue over it.

The hand at her leg had reached the hem of her dress in the meantime, and was now trailing back up along the inside of her thigh. She bucked her hips and whimpered impatiently, but Sandor kept his excruciatingly slow pace up her thigh with one hand while rubbing the nipple of the untouched breast with the other. When his fingers grazed the entrance for her pussy he simultaneously sucked one nipple and pinched the other. She moaned out loud from the sensation and began to rock her hips as the Hound slipped one long finger inside of her waiting cunt.

“Mm...did you let the Imp have you before coming to me little bird?” he growled into her breast, now fucking her with the one finger which was so much bigger than her own. “Tell it true.” He removed his hand from her breast and pinched her clit, as if to punctuate the statement.

“No!” she cried out in pleasure mixed with pain.

He flicked his thumb over her clit, as if a reward for an answer that pleased him. “Then why is my little bird already so deliciously wet?”

“I wanted you inside me...ah—all day,” she moaned out, knowing full well how brazen she sounded, but realizing how much she loved saying it

He responded by adding another finger, all the while still pumping in and out of her and teasing her nub oh so deftly. “Are you telling me that you came to get fucked by your faithful dog?”

“Yes!” she cried, not knowing if she was responding to Sandor's question or the orgasm that hit her when he said the word 'fucked.' She writhed underneath him in complete bliss, her pussy gripping his fingers to an erratic rhythm while they fucked her.

No sooner had the orgasm ceased than Sandor removed his fingers and brought him to his mouth, licking them, his smoldering eyes locked with her own.

 _What if he knows by my taste that I'm not Sansa_? she thought to herself, but Sandor seemed anything if not pleased with her taste.

“I told you Tyrion hasn't had me,” she pouted flirtatiously, hoping mentioning the Imp was something Sansa was allowed to do as well as him. She kissed him, tasting herself on his tongue.

“Perhaps I should repay you for your honesty.”

He said it so lovingly that Arya again felt guilty that she wasn't truly Sansa. She had no time to dwell, for Sandor was already pulling her dress up by the hem, removing it like one would skin a rabbit.

Naked as her name day, Arya took the opportunity to tackle him onto his back. She straddled him, grinding her pelvis into the massive bulge in his trousers. She gave his lip a quick nibble before dismounting him and pulling down his trousers and smallclothes in one long tug. She climbed back on top of him, positioning him at her entrance.. Sandor immediately reached out with both hands for her hips, slamming her down onto him.

Arya's reaction following the squeal that almost was a scream was the realization that Sandor was unmistakably larger than all of the other men she had been with. Only moments after that thought she was lost to the unbelievable ecstasy of grinding the Hound, aided by his strong arms pulling her hips closer and himself deeper until his whole length was sheathed inside her leaking cunt at the end of each thrust.

Arya silently praised all of the gods she'd ever known when Sandor brought his mouth up to her right nipple, one of his hands leaving her hip to brace himself. The angle somehow brought him even deeper, his pelvic bone rubbing her clit so amazingly with every stroke.

“Oh fuck Sandor, the Hound, oh...” she moaned, impaling herself repeatedly on him. In seconds she came, feeling her cunt grip Sanor's cock so fucking tight as she rode him, not stopping until she felt the next, larger climax come to her, only moments later. She felt so connected to Sandor at that moment that she swore she could feel his balls tighten, signaling his own approaching orgasm...

*****

  
SANSA

Sansa slipped out of the bed she shared with her husband when he wasn't at Casterly Rock. There were rumor's that he has Jamie hidden underneath the rock in an underground golden palace. Her husband has not yet trusted her with the truth, even after all these years. All she knows that on those rare occasions when she visits the seat of Lannister power Jamie is nowhere to be seen.

“Sansa?” Tyrion mumbles, half-asleep.

“I'm taking a walk. I'll tell a servant to feed the fire.”

She wondered sometimes if Tyrion knew about her indiscretions with Sandor. He tracked her down after the war ended, offering to annul the wedding. As an answer, she told him, “I'm sorry, husband. The war took my maidenhead just as it took your nose. Perhaps it would be most advantageous if we did not sever our union.”

“Will we share a bed as husband and wife?”

That had been a tricky question to answer.

“I intend to give you children. I would thank you if you didn't give me a pox from some whore in the meantime.”

The decision was hard for Sansa. She wanted more than anything to be able to marry Sandor, but Queen Danerys decreed that heredity would pass to the eldest child, regardless of gender, giving her Winterfell and responsibility to uphold the Stark ways. The name Stark should not become synonymous with broken marriages and betrothals. Affairs, however, should always be kept private. Tyrion had his courtesan at the Rock, if rumors were to be believed, Sansa had Sandor, and Sandor—well, Sansa gave him leave to discreetly find his own pleasure when Sansa couldn't be with him, but forbade him from bedding anyone under her employ.

But when Sansa reached Sandor's room and heard another woman's voice through the door along with the distinct sounds of sex, she felt a bit betrayed. When she gave him permission to bed other women, she pictured him having the decency to use an inn in the winter town. Her anger got the better of her, and before she could stop herself she was turning the door handle and swinging open the door.

Sansa could not believe her eyes. An auburn-haired woman was riding her lover. Both of them were naked, and from the sounds the woman was making, she was coming down from an orgasm. She must have heard the door open, for she turned to look.

 _Bless the gods, that's me! Have I gone mad_? she thought, then remembering the stories Old Nan told her about witches who could change their appearance in order to impersonate queens and highborn ladies.

*****

ARYA

“Get off of him, you witch,” the real Sansa growled, sounding for once the shewolf that she was.

At the word 'witch' Arya was reminded of the stories Old Nan told her about witches who worshiped the old gods and who could change their faces. The memory of the story gave Arya ideas as she wrapped herself tighter around the now struggling Sandor.

“Quit fighting, dog, or else I'll go wake the Lion,” Arya growled. Surprisingly, he halted, his eyes on hers as if trying to figure out who she really was and the secret was hidden in her eyes. Or was he trying to tell her that he already knew. More surprising still, she just then realized that he was still hard inside her. The knowledge gave her confidence. This could go the way she wanted if she had his...cooperation.

“Close the door, and come sit on the bed. Do all that without making a noise, and I might get off of your lover. He will be very disappointed, however. He hasn't yet been able to give me his seed.”

She could tell Sansa was trembling as she complied, sitting at the foot of the bed staring at her hands.

“Please don't tell my husband, he'll kill us.” Arya could see her sister was in the brink of tears, shaming her. But the ruse had gone on much to long for her to come clean now. So instead she removed herself from Sandor, turned around and then mounted him again.

“You silly child. How can you fuck your lover against a heart tree without expecting some kind of repayment from the gods?”

Sansa stiffened. “Are you here to punish me for my adultery?”

Arya chose that moment to resume making love to Sandor. She arched her back as she did so. “You can think of it as a punishment, if it _pleases_ you. Believe it or not: even the gods like getting fucked from time to time. The Kings of Winter used to stick their royal cocks in the mouths of the heart tree and give them their seed, and in return they gave them their fantasies. This is what I'm here to give.”

She watched Sansa turn pink and for a second she swore her sister's eyes moved from her hands to flit up and down her undulating body. “Yes,” Arya continued, her hunch confirmed, “You wanted to bed a woman. Sandor wanted to watch you with one.”

“I would not want to be there if he were with another woman,” Sansa protested, but her eyes kept drifting down to where Sandor's cock disappeared into Arya's cunt.

“That's why I'm not another woman. I'm you, except tomorrow morning I won't even exist.” She began to punctuate her words with thrusts. “I. Have. No. Way. Of. Knowing. If. The. Gods. Will. Send. Me. Again.”

*****

SANSA

She didn't know why, but Sansa believed the doppelganger who was fucking her lover. She's seen enough crazy things in the war that she could believe that the old gods might send her such as strange blessing. She's known for a long time that she was attracted to women as well as men. She wanted to bed Daenerys, but it would be unseemly for her to proposition herself to a queen, and now she was far away in Kings Landing, the last place she wanted to be.

Watching a mirror image of herself fucking Sandor was rapidly becoming less weird and more sexy to her. From where she sat she couldn't see Sandor's face, and she wondered how she would feel if he looked to be enjoying himself as much as the other Sansa was. Maybe she should find out.

“What would you have me do?” Sansa's voice was still trembling, but now with arousal. She felt enough guilt knowing that she was an adulteress but now she was going to have a threesome with an agent of the old gods who was a spitting image of her.

“Kiss me.”

Sansa crawled over to them and straddled Sandor's thighs, leaning in to kiss her lookalike. Her mouth tasted suspiciously of pussy, but the taste turned her on more than she thought it would.

She pulled away from the kiss and finally leaned to look at Sandor's face. He made eye contact, perhaps a little guiltily. _He's been enjoying this. I suppose he deserves to after he gave me three orgasms in the godswood._

Sansa cupped her twin's breast experimentally, still locking her eyes with Sandor's. “How was your night, love?” she asked him, sweetly, not yet being able to manage sexy in this new situation.

“I've missed you, sweetling,” came his groaned reply. _He must have held off his orgasm a long time_ , she guessed.

She suspected that if she asked, her twin would let her be the one who fucked Sandor to completion. She had been trying to conceive a child with him since she learned from a midwife that Tyrion was sterile. The midwife did not inform Tyrion, however, so Sansa had planned to make him proud of the tall, strong sons his wife gave him—Sandor's sons. Her Stark heritage could explain dark hair and the strength could come from either of their genes. However, Sandor not only had great endurance, but he could recover quickly after climaxing. She would have her turn with him soon enough.

She addressed her twin, rolling her nipple between her thumb and forefinger. “Could you turn back around?” she asked, adding, “If it pleases you.”

“It does,” her twin replied, doing as she was asked. The head of Sandor's cock made a wet plopping sound as it finally pulled out of her twin's cunt. It was glistening with her juices and some of Sandor's precum more likely than not, and she almost wanted to stop her so that she could lick that mixture off of him, but she thought better of it. Instead she undressed herself as her twin lowered herself back onto her lover. She watched them rutting for a moment.

“Does she feel like I do?” Sansa asked Sandor on a whim.

“She's even tighter than you. She feels like you did just after I took your maidenhead.”

The other her quivered, and Sansa witnessed a female orgasm for the first glorious time. Sansa lightly touched her centre as she watched.

“Amazing,” Sansa sighed, noting that Sandor had _still_ not come. “Show me how much you missed me, love.”

Sansa lowered herself onto Sandor's mouth, facing her twin, who was biting her lip in apparent arousal. Sandor kissed her lower lips passionately, as if he were greeting a long lost lover.

“He really loves you,” her twin told her, leaning in to kiss her. The identical women synchronized their rhythms while Sandor fucked one with his tongue and the other with his cock. The women's hands were suddenly at each others' breasts as they snogged wholeheartedly, quickening their pace.

Sandor brought one hand to squeeze her lookalike's ass, while his other reached up and teased Sansa's clit. The three of them came simultaneously. The twins moaned and mewed into each other's mouth while Sandor moaned right onto Sansa's clitoris while fucking her with three fingers.

When they finished they collapsed into a pile for a moment before the women rolled off of Sandor and settled on either side of him. Sandor kissed Sansa sweetly while her lookalike's hands roamed lazily over Sandor's body. Sansa reached for his not yet softened penis and stroked it with her hand as she kissed him with increasing passion.

She finally pulled her face back. “I want to fuck you while I fuck her,” she told him, feeling intoxicated with lust. Her twin smiled knowingly and motioned for them get off of the bed. Her twin scooted over and laid on her back diagonally with her head on a pillow at the corner of the bed. Sansa positioned herself on all fours between her spread legs and dipped her tongue into her twin experimentally.

“What a pretty picture,” Sandor sighed appreciatively, pleasuring himself while he watched them. Sansa must have been getting the hang of tongue fucking the identical woman because she was now moaning in earnest. Sandor couldn't bear to merely watch the gorgeous women make love. He positioned himself in space behind Sansa that was afford by their diagonal position on the bed. He teased the entrance of Sansa's pussy with his cock before easing in deliciously slow, Sansa moaning into her twin's cunt as he filled her completely with her length.

“Oh, Sansa, the Hound's fucking you like a dog,” her twin panted out, watching with sheer bliss as Sandor began to pound Sansa into her. Sansa brought her hips back to meet each thrust, all the while lapping enthusiastically at her twin's cunt. She tasted of Sandor's familiar seed which in minutes would also be inside of her, a thought that brought Sansa over the edge into another orgasm. Both Sandor and her twin cried her name as they followed her.

Again they collapsed into a heap, all of them sweating profusely despite the fact that the fire in the room had long since extinguished.

When their breathing had all returned to normal, Sansa's lookalike spoke. “I have a feeling I have left one our fantasies unfulfilled.” She took one of Sandor's hands and brought it to her puckered hole.

“I never let Sandor love me there because I thought it would hurt,” Sansa explained, all sense of shame leaving her as she watched Sandor play with her twin's ass with gentle reverence.

“It hurts a little,” the lookalike admitted. “But it can also feel really good.”

After Sandor had sufficiently prepared her he lifted her ankles and placed them on his shoulders. He placed a few fingers inside of her cunt and used her juices to lubricate his cock before placing it at her arsehole and slowly pushing in. Sansa watched raptly as Sandor's cock eventually disappeared completely inside her lookalike, whose face was steadily morphing from pained to ecstatic.

“Make her fuck you, Sansa,” Sandor groaned, now speeding his pace.

“Yes,” her twin panted, “I want to taste you, Sansa.”

Sansa straddled her twin's face, giggling as the lookalike began to tease her clit. Sandor began outright pounding her twin, making her jerk rhythmically as she ate Sansa's pussy. Sansa caught Sandor's mouth with her own when he came, her twin undoubtedly spurred into following him when she felt him release into her tight arse.

“Sansa didn't come,” her twin pointed out meaningfully when Sansa climbed off of her.

“I know what she needs,” Sandor announced, kneeling in between her legs and kissing her deeply. He continued as if the night were still young, as if they had not yet already fucked in every way imaginable. He kissed down her neck to her breasts, spending much time on each before her kissed down her torso, past her bellybutton to her hips and then her thighs, kissing inward and inward until he was kissing her cunt.

“Sandor, I love you,” she sighed, her breathing quickening once again.

He stopped tongue-fucking her when she was nearing the precipice of an orgasm and slid up her body again, catching a nipple in his mouth as he slid his cock inside her in one long thrust. She wrapped her legs tightly around his hip as he lovingly fucked her, both of them ignoring the fake Sansa in favor of each other Sandor pushed himself as deep inside her as he possibly could with each thrust, settling into a familiar but exquisite rhythm that they both knew so well. They came simultaneously, calling each other's names as if they were blessings to the gods.

It wasn't Sandor rolled off of Sansa that either of them noticed that the doppleganger had disappeared when they were making love.

*****

ARYA

The next morning Arya was sore in several places and practically half-asleep as she made her way to armory. It was still dark, but she often found Sandor awake and swinging his sword with no armor on hours before the anyone else at Winterfell were stirring.

When the armory was being rebuilt, Arya insisted it had a room big enough for sparring attached for when the winter got too cold to practice outside. It was already being used in the early morning and late evening. Arya crossed through this room before opening the door the the armory itself, smacking right into Sandor. He didn't even stumble backwards, despite the fact that she was walking briskly. He steadied her with a hand on the shoulder.

“Long night?” He asked her with a mocking grin on his face.

“I drank too much,” she mumbled not daring to meet his eyes. “Woke up this morning feeling rather sore.”

“Liar,” he rasped,griping her shoulder as if to remind her just how strong he was. “Where did you learn to do that trick?”

“Which one?” she smirked, watching the night's events replay in his eyes.

He jerked her towards him, his breath hot on her ear as he growled, “I ought to tell your sister everything.”

“And I'll tell her you knew it was me from the beginning,” she growled in response, palming the front of his trousers, raising an eyebrow at the bulge she found.

“There was a fantasy we didn't live out last night.”

“Which one was that?” Arya's face was the personification of a challenge.

“The one where I bend Arya Stark over on the floor and fuck her like the bitch that she is.”

Sandor spun her around and yanked down her breeches and smallclothes at once. He did the same for himself before he pushed down on her shoulders with one arm and pulled her hips to his with the other. He thrust in and out of her cunt one savage time before pulling her down to her hands and knees not entirely ungently, kneeling down as well.

He resumed pounding her her harder than ever, harder than anyone's fucked her in her life. She nearly wanted someone, anyone to enter the room at that moment just so that she could have a witness to the amazing fucking she was receiving.

“Yes, fuck me Hound! I almost begged you to do it a hundred times.”

“You watched me with Sansa in the godswood. You sought to trick me to get me to give you my cock.”

“I thought you were my sister's loyal dog.”

Sandor slapped her arse with in open palm, causing her to yelp. “Your sister is a Lady wed. I am but a dog who will mount any bitch who lets him.”

Arya let out a feral growl. “It seems you're particularly fond of wolves.”

“It seems wolves are particularly fond of _me_ ,” he punctuated the word with another slap.

“Does Sansa let you spank her when you fuck her? Does she worry over what she'll tell her husband when he sees the bruises on her arse?”

 _Slap_.

Arya went on, her breathing ragged with pleasure and pain. “Does she like it when there's a chance someone will catch her fucking you?”

 _Slap_.

The last slap was met with a cry of pleasure.

“Did you like it when she caught us?”

The Hound bent over her, biting her neck and reaching around her to pinch one of her nipples through her tunic. Arya recalled that it was what male wolves did when Nymeria let them mate with her. Sometimes she entered the direwolf's consciousness when she was in heat and was able to make the wolf come. The connection of the memory with her present position was sending Arya swiftly over the edge.

“Fuck, Hound, oh yes, Sandor, SANDOR!” she howled, arching her back as the the orgasm shook throughout her

The Hound released her neck when he came, throwing back his head in ecstasy. “Wolfbitch—Arya...your little cunt...”

Arya came again at her name being moaned like a curse. “It's yours,” she panted her cunt squeezed Sandor with each of his increasingly sloppy thrusts. “You can have my cunt. Any. Time. You. Want.”

Arya noticed for the first time that the room was bathed in pink light by the rising sun when Sandor pulled his softening cock out of her. They both stood and righted their clothing, still catching their breath.

“Be sure to find my room when it's the Imp's turn with my sister,” Arya leaned against the door with a satisfied grin, looking quite thoroughly fucked.

“Be nice to your sister, and maybe I will.”

Arya opened the door and went off to have a bath before breaking her fast and washing it down with some Moon Tea, silently thanking Sansa for keeping Sandor Clegane around.

**Author's Note:**

> Stay tuned for the upcoming sequel. Will Sansa get pregnant? Will Arya and Sansa's affairs with Sandor get discovered? Will Sansa ever get to be with Dany? Check back here or at the meme for updates!


End file.
